Of Trees And Other Christmas Treats
by ThinksInWords
Summary: Best friends Eponine and Enjolras start celebrating a little early. But it's their first Christmas together - and that is not their only first - written as Smut Sunday entry for 31 Days of Enjonine on Tumblr


Smut for 31 days of Enjonine

December 15th

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I only do dirty things with them.

AN: This was my smutty entry for 31 Days of Enjonine. Enjoy!

It's her first year away from her parents' house and on her own. Well, she isn't exactly on her own, seeing as she lives with a roommate now, but it is still her very first year without having to stick with her parents' rules and the first year during which she actually gets to decorate her own little place for the holidays.

She doesn't care what 'Jolras might say about it – he's not a holiday kind of guy – because she has already carried the damn tree into their living room and set it up in a mostly empty corner. He will just have to deal, because she finally has a Christmas tree, when they never had one before. They just weren't allowed to have one. Her parents never saw the point in it, and money was better spent on alcohol and crazy schemes than on things that actually made them feel like a family.

They have never been much of a family.

Until so very recently, all she had was her friend Enjolras, the boy she'd watched grow up while her mother worked as a maid in his parents' house. He was rich and by all rights should have been the biggest snob, but he was actually a decent guy, even though he was occasionally a privileged ass with a huge savior complex. If she had to count all the times where he tried to buy her happiness, she'd lose count by the time she got to their sixteenth year. And they're twenty-one now.

Now, she still has 'Jolras – well, he is still her best friend. They're even living together in their own little apartment, and she pays a part of the rent – a bigger part than he wanted her to pay, so she can count that as a victory. And their little apartment finally feels like a proper home, especially now that she has dragged in this Christmas tree and livened up the apartment. Everything except their couch is utilitarian and boring – well, the couch and the fireplace that came with the apartment.

She is going to change that, though, by getting some more ornaments for this tree and making their first Christmas living together as friends a real thing. She knows him well enough to tell that if she leaves it up to him, they will just be sitting in the apartment while he works ridiculous hours of overtime and she gets more and more bored until she goes so crazy that she accepts Cosette's invitation to come over and spend Christmas with her and Marius – which would mean dooming herself to too much sappiness. Honestly, she might vomit before she's half way through the first hour.

"I'm home," 'Jolras calls out as he opens the door.

"You're doing it wrong," she shouts at him, just about ready to close the door in his face until he gets it right. "It's honey, I'm home."

His response to that is to shake his head fondly as he throws his keys in the key bowl on the cabinet they got from the second-hand store for a ridiculously low amount of money – she knows her bargains. This little ritual is part of his homecoming; because he's taking so many extra classes that he doesn't come home until after dinner some days.

"Did you remember to eat?" he asks, worried as usual.

"I ate over an hour ago," she rolls her eyes at his mother hen behavior and walks towards the big tree again. "What do you think of our Christmas tree?"

'Jolras stands completely still the second he spots the tree, and he sighs deeply – she knows that she is going to have to do a lot of convincing for him to consider keeping the tree until the New Year, after which she will promise to get rid of it herself.

"At least my gift will make more sense now," he sighs again.

That is a curious thing for him to say, so she decides to just wait him out, because eventually he will start explaining himself.

"You got me a gift?" she can't help but blurt out that little bit.

"I know that it's not Christmas yet," he starts one of his big speeches, "and I know that I'm not allowed to buy anything for you because you're a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man to buy her things. I saw this and I wanted you to have it. I made sure it was not ridiculously expensive, and it's supposed to be meaningful."

There is a plastic bag in his hand, with the logo of an unremarkable chain of stores that carries just about everything she could ever think of, so there is no hint on the bag as to what this mysterious gift for her is. She will just have to unpack the actual physical present to see what he is so desperate to purchase for her.

"You can take it back if I don't want it?" she asks him.

"I made sure," he promises. "I really hope you like it."

He sounds almost bashful with that last bit, scuffing his expensive leather shoes on the carpet as he waits for her to take the plastic bag from him. He is holding out his hand and she feels that stupid spark when she briefly touches his outstretched fingers while taking that damn bag. She really thought she would be over this by now. While there is weirdly great chemistry between the two of them, there is no way that she is ever going to act on that chemistry because fucking up the most important friendship in her entire life is not on her list of things to do over the holidays.

Actually, it is not on her list of things to do ever, because this friendship was the only thing she had once upon a time and stupid chemistry is not going to fuck it up for her – even though she has made new friends and they both grew up.

"Just open the bag already," 'Jolras gets a bit more gruff. "I'm begging you."

Teasing him is one of the highlights of her day sometimes, but right now, she just really needs to put him out of his misery – he looks way too nervous about this present for it to be anything good, but at least she will know then.

"Take a deep breath," she warns him wryly.

"Will you stop?" he exhales loudly, staring at the bag with too much emotion.

She might as well open the damn bag before he has a coronary. So she lifts the plastic bag a little and opens it up, spotting two wrapped packages – one flat small package, and a larger softer one. Both are wrapped in brightly colored Christmas wrapping paper.

"Unwrap the big one first," 'Jolras is wringing his hands now.

"As you wish," she replies, trying not to think of the Princess Bride.

Peeling off the paper bit by bit, she can tell that this package is made of some kind of fabric, because it gives way easily to her fingers trying to manipulate the shape. When the bright colors come off, she finds a pair of gigantic socks – nay, stockings. There is a big red one with 'Gabriel' written on it in white cursive, and there is one for her as well, in a shade of green she has been told makes her eyes pop – also, green is an essential Christmas color. It reads her name in the very same lettering that was on his stocking.

"You got us Christmas stockings?" she can't help but soften at this display of sentiment.

"The other gift is a bit more fragile," 'Jolras pretends he isn't a big softie deep down.

Stupidly, she has to grin at that before planting a big smacking kiss on his cheek, just to make him even more uncomfortable. It has nothing to do whatsoever that she just likes that she can kiss him like that. He will allow her hugs and kisses on the cheek, but she is sure anything more would simply not be welcome – not from her, not from anyone. Sure, she is the only one to see the softer side to the self-proclaimed heartless beast, but that does not mean that she means anything more to him than any kind of friend.

The stockings fit perfectly on their fireplace, and she takes another quick peek at them before focusing on the other present once again.

"I'm going to fuck it up," she warns him. "I don't do well with fragile."

"You'll be fine," 'Jolras rolls his eyes at her panicking.

He knows her much too well to still be impressed with her occasional bouts of crippling insecurity. She's getting better at this whole thing, but part of her still expects her parents to show up and smack her if she breaks this fragile gift. She is tense and trembling when he gently approaches her, noticing it is more than just insecurity and clumsiness this time. He knows not to touch her until she is ready.

"Our first Christmas?" she reads when she sees the glass ornament in the package.

"For our tree," he shrugs as if the gesture is completely unsentimental. "I didn't know you were going to get one today, but I figured you'd want to at some point."

This is what always happens with the two of them. He just manages to read her mind somehow and come up with the exact things she was thinking of. It is kind of terrifying to have someone around who knows her that well, and it leaves her stupidly worried that he will one day read her attraction to him and want nothing to do with her.

"Can you not look into my brain all the time?" she teases.

She takes another look at the fragile glass ornament and its inscription. The word 'First' means that there will be more in the future, and she is already thinking of future Christmases that they will spend together. He never dates, and she's stupidly hung up on him, so they might as well grow old together in this apartment, getting gray and wrinkly side by side and never once regretting a single moment.

And, you know, occasionally walking around half naked and driving each other absolutely fucking crazy that way. His stupid tendency to walk around shirtless – he owns enough shirts, so why isn't he wearing them – is really distracting. Also, she might not always walk in on him completely accidentally. His boxer briefs are just interesting and if this is the only way that she can get him semi-naked, she'll take it.

"You are just so readable," 'Jolras grins at her.

"Only for you," she responds, preparing to hang the ornament in their tree. "Everyone else thinks I'm some mysterious, damaged mess of a person."

They roll their eyes almost in sync, because the idea of damage is not new to them, and it does not make them any better or worse than their friends. They've grown up together, so there's no scar that they don't know on their bodies or on their hearts. There is nothing that he does not know about her, except those damn feelings of hers.

She's lucky the stepladder is right there, because she has seen the perfect spot for the first ornament and it is nowhere near being in her reach. Yes, okay, she isn't the tallest girl, but she isn't really tiny either, and this tree might be a little too big for their apartment. That's probably why she had to buy so many damn lights for it.

'Jolras is staring at the huge tree taking over half the room with a resigned air, because what did he expect? When she does something, she goes all out with it, just like she did with her stupid seduction attempts that he never responded to.

"I'm going to try and hang it up there," she points up high, standing on her tippy toes as she attempts to hang the loop on the ornament on a particularly high-up branch.

His hands are on her hips, fingers squeezing the skin above her ass – she wishes he would just move those clever fingers to the place between her legs that is positively aching for him. He is still steadying her, too gentle, as she finally reaches the branch with her fingers and manages to hang the ornament without getting too many needles on her bare feet. She stares at it; one tiny ornament in this huge tree, and she wonders what else will fill this tree – how they will make this life, together.

It is when she tries to get back on her feet without falling into the tree face first that everyone goes wrong. When she turns to face 'Jolras – which means that he has to let go of her hips, unfortunately – she has to climb down the steps on wobbly legs. And that is never a good idea.

She doesn't even make it down one step before she trips over thin air and flies for a brief second before gravity takes hold and pulls her down. She braces herself, knowing how unforgiving their floor is, only to find herself harshly grabbed hold of by her best friend – who really is stronger than he looks.

Now, they don't exactly go toppling to the floor like they would have if this in any way resembled one of those cheesy movies, but she does crash into him with a little too much speed. Sure, he did catch her, but she still ends up with her body pressed against him in ways that her overactive mind is already analyzing. She can tell that her body fits perfectly against his when she comes down from her tiptoes, and his curls are tickling her quickly heating skin.

His breath on her neck makes her shiver, and even though they have hugged plenty of times in the past, this feels different somehow. His arms don't usually end up cradling her ass and pressing her into the surprising hardness between his legs. 'Jolras isn't usually breathing heavy and trying not to stare at her mouth. This is new.

"I would say I didn't mean to grab your ass," he speaks up, his voice hoarse in a way that sends shivers down her spine, "but I'm sure you'd be able to tell I was lying."

"There's something in your pants speaking to the contrary," she tries to keep her cool.

Her best friend, her 'Jolras, is pressing his erection into her and that is just too much; there is no way to act cavalier about it. He wants her – and even though he might not want her as much as she wants him, the confirmation is enough to make her a little giddy with the feeling. He wants her!

"Well this is what happens when you walk around in those thin shirts without a bra," he groans. "And those shorts! You know exactly what you do to me."

Sure, he's blushing, like the awkward little shit he's always been when the conversation turned to something sexual, but he's also revealing more of himself. Yeah, she never wears a bra when she's hanging around the house and he's the only one there – because let's face it, why would she need to? She just never thought he'd notice.

"I mean," he stammers, embarrassed at what he just revealed.

And knowing him, he's even embarrassed about the hardness pressing into her thigh; even though that's something she's wanted from him for the longest times. She'd walked in on him in the bathroom often enough to try and catch a glimpse of an erection, hoping he wanted her like she wanted him. And all this time, he did feel that way!

"I'm sorry," he tries to pull away.

"Don't be," she smiles widely, pulling him closer.

He's visibly trying to compose himself, taking deep breaths and probably hoping that the blush on his face will disappear. Still 'Jolras has never been that good at hiding from her.

"I'm surprised you haven't been able to tell before," he is faking his cool.

"What?" she stumbles back onto her own two feet.

Before? Why would he talk about before? There has never been any kind of before between the two of them, no matter how much she might have wanted that to happen, and no matter how often she dreamed of a moment like this. The reality is different, with his actual breath warming her skin and his hands stroking her ass.

"I have been falling all over myself for years," 'Jolras is blushing now.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she punches him in the arm briefly, a familiar gesture amongst the newness of their other touches. "Couldn't you tell I wanted you?"

She really thought that she'd been much too obvious about it, with lingering glances and her teasing touches getting more and more sensual. She thought he figured it out and rejected her in his own way, not that he was feeling the same way as she did – and does.

"Of course I didn't know," his hands move to the small of her back. "I was too busy worrying that I'd irrevocably fucked up the best thing I've ever had in my life."

Later, she'll lie awake and wonder aloud how he never noticed that she was trying to seduce him by barging into his room in her sexiest bras, asking him to finish zipping up a dress that was hanging loosely around her waist, but for right now all she can focus on is how his breath smells a little like gingerbread. And her eyes are still drawn to his full lips, wondering how they will taste when she finally gathers up the courage to kiss him.

"Your law career?" she asks, only partly joking.

The look on his face is enough proof that he wasn't even considering his future as the best lawyer in the country. It's astonishing to see that he values her so much, and it would positively terrify her if it were anyone else. But it's 'Jolras, so she still feels safe, even though her shirt has been pushed up and he's drawing figures on the skin of her back. His touch is electrifying and her breath catches in her throat.

"Oh 'Ponine," he chuckles, leaning in for what will be their first kiss. "Shut up."

She smells gingerbread again when he kisses her, his mouth demanding everything that she can offer. There is nothing tame about this kiss; this is years of pent up passion and pushed down feelings all poured into this one kiss. Her fingers are scratching his scalp, his hands trying to pull her closer still as their mouths meet again and again. Her heart is beating faster and faster, trying to keep up with the sparks shooting through her body.

"I've thought about this before," she pants when they break apart.

"You have?" the proud smirk on his face belies his vulnerable words.

Oh, how she wishes she could wipe that smirk off his stupid face, because it does things to her, things that have her running her nails down his back and almost tearing his shirt in her haste to pull it up and over his head.

"What else have you thought about?" 'Jolras pulls off his shirt.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" now she is the one smirking.

The first kiss she places on the underside of his jaw, the next one on his neck, another one on his Adam's Apple, and slowly she moves her way down his neck, to his solid chest. He tenses up even further under her mouth, and she can feel the play of muscles under her hands as she plays with the button on his jeans. She has just popped it when 'Jolras pulls on her hair, pulling her face back up to meet his.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," he stresses the word long, holding her head in position by pulling her hair softly. "Where's the fire?"

"I hate puns," she groans.

So, that groan was only partly because of the stupid pun, and mostly because of the lovely pull on her hair and the way that he is unexpectedly taking control.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" the idiot asks.

"No," she tells him vehemently.

She's been dreaming about him for years, about this moment, about him holding her head in place while she takes him into her mouth and shows him how good it is that she doesn't have a gag reflex. She just wants him to kiss her until she is lost for breath. She wants him to want her so badly that he quits all semblance of propriety. Sure, she wants him to make love to her, but she has been waiting for his so long – she has no more patience for going slow.

With another kiss, she tries to persuade him to go faster. This time, she is the one pulling on his hair just the slightest bit, guiding him first into a searing kiss and then guiding his mouth towards her chest. Her breasts are aching for his attention, and she is almost crawling out of her skin when he blows his hot breath over her cleavage.

"Please," she hardly recognizes the needy whine coming out of her mouth.

His head snaps up and he stares at her like a deer caught in the headlights. His momentary lapse of attention gives her enough time to pull her sweater over her head, leaving her in her bra and giving him easier access. If he ever makes another move.

"Is this okay?" he gently puts his fingers on her breasts.

"Yes," she is just about tired of him asking that.

It takes a while, but his fingers slowly start moving on her breasts, and she can feel his calloused fingertips run over her soft skin. It makes her shiver, something that he must be able to feel, as close as he is to her. She wants more, harder, everything!

So she unhooks her bra, not waiting for him to get around to it. The straps fall down her shoulders almost instantly, with only his clever fingers on the cups holding the bra up to her chest. If he lets go, she will be completely naked from the waist up.

"Is this okay?" he asks yet again, fingers flexing against the fabric.

"For the love of God, yes," she almost shouts at him. "I want you, you moron!"

Really, it is the surprise that does it, because his fingers lose their grip on her bra and it falls to the ground. So when his hands try to grab their previous hold again, his fingers are touching her bare skin. And it feels wonderful, calloused fingers caressing her tightening nipples and goose bumps running over the skin of her entire body.

She is hot all over with most of the heat centering between her legs, and she is ready to rip the rest of their clothes off and mount him. She wants him so bad, her hands helping his mold her breasts ever so nicely and his pelvis rubbing hers with increasing franticness. The friction alone could burn through their remaining clothes

"Are you-?" he tries to ask again, but she silences him with a kiss.

Yes, she is sure. Yes, everything he is doing is fine by her. Yes, she wants him with the power of a thousand suns. Now if only he would take his clothes off and fuck her already.

"Don't stop," she tells him.

His hands have moved from her breasts to her hips, and then to the catch on her pants, playing with it for a short while before unhooking it, revealing her bright red Christmas underwear to his eyes. She feels a twinge of regret for that choice before she feels his fingers slip inside her festive panties to feel the wetness pooling there.

"Fuck, 'Ponine," he breathes into her ear.

"That's the point," she responds cheekily, quickly followed by a moan.

All humor is gone momentarily, when he pulls down her pants with one hand, while the other familiarizes itself with her slit. She will never mock his stupid hand exercises again if this is the result of them, because his fingers seem to know exactly how much pressure to use on each exact spot. Even though the angle is a bit awkward with her panties still in the way, he manages to not only find her clit, but to touch it just right. She is moaning and rolling her hips within seconds, wanting him to just get her naked already.

The warmth from the fireplace makes it more than pleasant enough to get naked right here in the living room. She doesn't have the patience to move this to the bedroom anyway.

"Take them off," she tries to pull down her panties, but 'Jolras stops her.

"I'm taking my time," he grins at her.

His hand makes a strategic retreat, and the bastard actually fucking licks her juices off his finger before getting on his knees in front of her.

Oh my fucking God. Is he actually going to-?

The heat of his breath on her covered sex makes her feel like she has been set on fire from the inside out, and she wonders how far he will go, and she squirms, squeezing her thighs together to relieve some of the ache that is ever growing.

He plants a soft kiss on her left hip, just above her panties, and then another one, and another one, until he's nibbling at the flesh of her hip, undoubtedly leaving a mark there, where no one but he will be able to see it. She moans at the idea of him branding her so secretly, for only the two of them to know.

She is already trying to figure out where she will return the favor later. His neck would be too obvious and not so easy to hide. She might leave a hickey near his ass, leaving a stupid proprietary statement about how his ass is hers. He is hers as much as she is his.

With his next string of kisses, he pulls down her panties inch by inch, kissing and laving the uncovered skin with mouth and tongue until she can barely catch her breath with all the moaning she is doing, standing on trembling legs and feeling waves of pleasure wash over her. She is getting ever closer to the edge.

"Oh, 'Jolras," she groans as he lets her panties fall to the floor.

Her trembling legs can't keep her up for much longer, so with his help she steps out of her panties. She watches him stuff them into his jeans pocket with a surprised and pleased smile on her face. Oh, she sees how things are going to be.

Still, her revenge plans are immediately forgotten about when his mouth finds her heat and plays her like she is his finest instrument. A pluck with his fingers, then just a bit of suction on her clit, and a lick there – oh, the edge approaches so rapidly as her breathing gets more shallow and she tries to dig her toes into the rug to stay standing as the waves crash over her with his final lick near her clit.

"Fuck," she keens. "Gabe."

Oh God, did that really just happen? Did her best friend just make her come like no one else has been able to? It just figures he'd be good at oral, just like he's good at just about everything else. Fucking hell, as soon as she is able to stand again without his help she is going to get him back for this and make his knees so weak that he'll never be able to see this damn rug again without getting at least half-hard.

"Take off your pants," she orders, getting down on her knees.

She can actually see him swallow harshly, his Adam's Apple sticking out sharply as her dear Gabe tries to regain the power of speech. She is betting that this sentence has been featured in his private fantasies many times before – and she is planning on blowing those fantasies right out the water. Rather literally.

"Jesus, 'Ponine," he croaks, and she smirks proudly.

With her eyebrow raised, she waits for him to pull down his pants. She hears him hiss as he brushes past his erection while doing so, and she cannot wait to get her hands – and mouth – on him, and show him what else she can do with her smart mouth.

Finally, the damn jeans hit the floor, and all Gabe is still wearing are his stupid dark blue boxer briefs. He is standing up awkwardly to take his jeans off completely, and that is when she makes her move, grabbing a hold of the hardness barely contained by his underwear and watching his eyes roll into the back of his head. She licks her lips pointedly, making him groan.

Oh yeah, he is just as much hers as she is his.

She sits up on her heels for better access as she teases him, pulling the fabric back and forth over his undoubtedly aching erection. Leaning in to his crotch, inch by inch, she wears a big grin as she uses her right hand to follow the trail of fine hair on his belly to the hardness that is barely hidden by fabric. She tugs on the elastic, snapping it against his skin softly before finally pulling it down the first inch.

"Fuck," he groans.

Oh, that is a lovely bonus, having him curse like that. She's always found it incredibly hot when he finally lost his carefully maintained composure enough to say something he wouldn't normally deem all that proper.

He deserves to be rewarded for that, she thinks, deciding to pull his boxers down completely, grabbing a hold of him again, without the covering this time. There is a sound from him that might resemble her name, but it is too strangled to make out anything. She grins some more; liking how much power she has over him this way, before she gives him an experimental lick. And then another, because she likes the way he grabs a hold of her hair, trying to keep her mouth on him.

Still, she is the one in control, hollowing out her cheeks as she bobs down on him. His hips reflexively thrust back in response, and she is very glad she doesn't have a gag reflex, because she never would have been able to pull this trick off otherwise. She tries to give the best blowjob she has ever given, hoping to get down on the rug with him to get him inside of her. The ache in her center is returning quickly.

"Stop," he groans, trying to pull her off. "I want to fuck you."

She is tempted to keep going, but the emptiness inside of her drives her to release the hardness from between her lips with an audible pop. She licks her lips before pulling him down to her level; ready to make her own dreams come true. There have been dreams before, but they were nothing like this. This is the real thing.

The pinch of her nails into the skin of her arm makes her feel real pain. This is actually happening to her. She is actually going to fuck her best friend. Strangely enough, it doesn't make her all that terrified anymore.

Gabe is digging through his pockets, finding a foil packet that makes her think of his stupid Boy Scout days. The idiot is always prepared, after all. She is glad for it now, as she takes the rubber from him, squeezing the tip and rolling it over his hard member.

"Are you sure?" he asks one final time.

"Stop asking," she orders, pushing him down onto the rug and climbing on top of him, straddling his hips. "I want you. I've wanted you for years. I'll always want you."

It is oh so tempting to give in to gravity and mount him quickly, but she wants to drag it out now that she is the one on top, the one in control. Slowly, inch by inch, she lowers herself on his hardness, feeling her body adjust to his girth and to having someone inside of her again. It's been quite a while for her.

"Oh God," he thrusts home with a guttural moan.

If she had any doubts about him wanting this, they are gone now, with him buried deep inside of her and smiling up at her as if she has just granted him his greatest wish in life – which, maybe she did. She rolls her hips slightly, and then has to bite her lip because that angle struck her clit. Yes, no more taking things slowly.

Her hands are trying to gain purchase on his chest when he suddenly flips them both over, driving her into the rug as he thrusts inside of her. She is out of breath for a second, but then she grabs his ass to make him get the right angle.

Luckily, he catches on quickly, driving into her at a merciless speed, making her shriek with every other thrust and moan intermittently as his clever fingers find new ways to torment her and drive her ever further to another peak. She feels the muscles in his butt flex with each thrust and she digs her nails in a bit more.

"Close," she whispers.

The rug burns that will undoubtedly cover her entire back are more than worth it. She feels the heat of the fireplace and the heat of him on top of her, and she ignites with his next thrust. Her climax washes over her like a tidal wave.

"Gabe," she doesn't scream, but she whispers it in his ear. "Gabe."

His grip on her hips tightens as he kisses her harshly, and she works with him to get him to such a well-deserved peak. His thrusts get less controlled, and she presses gentle kisses against his sweaty brow until he comes with a strangled moan.

"Oh," he seems almost in awe. "My 'Ponine."

With that, she has to smile at him, kissing him quickly because his look of awe is almost endearing and she almost wishes she could keep him inside of her forever. If it were up to her, the world could just stop in this very moment and she would be happy to live forever like this. It will get awkward and uncomfortable soon, but not just yet.

He is the one to make them move, slipping out of her awkwardly and getting rid of the stupid condom. He flips them slowly, so she is the one on top again, and she can use his solid chest as her pillow for a little while. Now that they're no longer making love, the heat of the fire no longer feels like enough warmth to keep her comfortable.

"If you let go of me for a bit, I'll get us some blankets," Gabe speaks up.

"Thanks, snookums," she seeks refuge in audacity.

Sure, he may give her an odd look, but he's used to some random comments from her, so she can get away with it. If she tries the weird pet names first, he won't respond as oddly to the more normal ones. She is conditioning him, basically, and while she is sure that he will figure it out eventually, he has not done so yet. She's got some time.

Judging by the pillow she gets in her face a few seconds later, she might not actually have that much time. Still, he is smiling as he brings the blankets over, gloriously naked and not self-conscious at all in this moment – probably because he has forgotten that he isn't actually wearing clothes. She takes it all in, slowly, before he inevitably realizes that he is not comfortable with this and gets dressed.

"Hey you," he lays down next to her.

They curl up under the blankets together, and he lets her pillow her head on his chest again, so she can hear him breathing steadily and his heart pumping under her ear. She smiles when he starts playing with strands of her hair. This is what she's always wanted.

She is ill prepared for the oncoming conversation, so she stays silent for a little while, not knowing how to ask him anything. She wants to know everything, wants to know how long he's wanted her and why he didn't get her hints and why they haven't been doing this for years and what they are now that they have made love. Will they stay friends, just two platonic roommates and best friends who slipped once and weren't brave enough to try for more? Will they do it again and pretend they're just friends because their friendship is more important than anything else? Or will they be brave for once and make this mean something? Can they make this the start of something real?

"What are we?" she blurts it out, because of course she has to be the brave one.

"Whatever you want us to be," Gabe leaves it entirely up to her, and that is both terrifying and exhilarating. "I'll defer to your better judgment."

He plants a quick kiss on the top of her head, probably worrying that it will be the last chance that he will get to hold her naked body close to his. Shouldn't he know by now that she is never going to let him go?

"Thanks for leaving the ball in my court," she's being sarcastic as ever.

"You know I'd never want you to do anything you don't want," he tries to explain himself as she turns her head to look at him. "I'm your faithful servant, always have been and always will be. Just, please don't break my heart, 'Ponine."

This vulnerability is terrifying, because even though he has seen her every line and scar, he has never seen this much of her heart. She has always hidden this love and this want, and even though it seems that he has done the same thing, it is still too much to bare herself to him in this way. She is already naked, and now she is completely bare.

"How would I do that?" she has to hear him say it.

"You must know by now," he takes a deep breath before making his feelings known. "I love you, my 'Ponine. It would make me extremely happy to be called your Gabriel in return. Shit, I mean, I don't mean to be so formal, but… Just answer me, 'Ponine."

The usually so eloquent man is flustered, and she enjoys it greatly, but knows that she will have to put him out of his misery soon. His words are enough for her to wonder if it was all a dream after all. She knows that isn't true, but this has all turned out so wonderfully that she is worried that things are too perfect.

"I love you," she tells him. "I'd be very happy if you were mine and I were yours."

"I still have to take you out on a proper date," Gabe muses, a pleased smile on his face.

Him and that damn stuff about being proper! Damn being proper! Still, she'd love an actual date with him, now that this thing here has become love rather than a one-off fuck because of lust and the season. She imagines walking the streets hand in hand and going out to dinner and wearing those dresses for him, instead of merely having him zip her up. She'll still ask him that, and she wonders if they'll ever make it to a proper date if she keeps wanting him like she does now. She can't imagine leaving the house for a while.

"What would we do on a proper date?" she asks, grinning widely.

"I imagine I'd get to kiss you some more," he smiles in return.

Gabe kisses her briefly; just a taste, and she cannot get enough of him. She wants more of him, leaning in for another kiss and then another. There is nothing left to stop her.

"Wow," she breaks away to catch her breath.

"It's an almost Christmas miracle," Gabe deadpans.

"Dork," she says lovingly, planting a quick peck on his jaw. "Speaking of Christmas…"

The second he understands what she is up to, he lets out a groan and tries to hide his face from her pleading look. He doesn't want to be obeying her every whim, but since she knows that it'd be very much the same the other way around, she is still going to keep trying. She just wants him to do this one little thing anyway.

"I'm not decorating the tree naked," he gives her a look.

"I just wanna watch you stretch to reach the high branches," she pouts.

Yes, that is her secret weapon, and it has always worked well on him, but even better now he knows what those pouty lips look like stretched around his hard cock. He'll be powerless to resist her now.

"I make it a point to stay away from needles when naked," Gabe is not particularly pleased, but he is getting up anyway.

The view is delicious, his ass taut and firm and her nail marks show as brands of ownership on his back. She eyes him up and down, from his messy curls to her nail marks to the dimples on his lower back, to that fine ass and further down to his feet, hesitantly stepping closer to the dangerous tree.

She hates to get up from under the comfy blankets, but she has an idea.

"Wait," she stops Gabe in his tracks. "Now you're safe."

Yes, she really had to hang the silly Santa hat off his dick – come on, she had to protect that from getting needles all over it. The look on his face makes it that much better.

"Damn it 'Ponine," Gabe's anger is just funny to her now.

All he's wearing is a Santa hat covering his dick, and that makes everything he says amusing rather than in any way terrifying – he should realize that soon and make the most of his pin-up Santa moments before she throws him to the floor and ravishes him again. She'll try to be careful, but she can make no promises.

There's only the one star that she wants him to hang in the tree, and he does, without any complaints, and giving her enough time to ogle shamelessly. He even turns around to give her an excellent front view of everything.

"Were you a model in your previous life?" she teases, making him blush.

They are both standing now, naked all but for that hat. She grabs a hold of the hat and the growing hardness in it. Gabe groans and kisses her desperately.

"Think we can make it to the bed this time?" he asks her.

"Your bed or mine?" she speaks in response, ready to dart off in that direction.

A laugh, and they are off, leaving the Santa Hat behind near _their_ first Christmas tree.

AN: Blame Mary for the Santa Hat!


End file.
